Lavender's Blue
by Pearlness4700
Summary: "Lavender's green, dilly dilly, lavender's blue/If you love me, dilly dilly, I will love you." What would Cinderella be without her glass slippers and gorgeous gown? Granted, it'd be a much darker tale, but life isn't always as magical as fairy tales make it out to be and, unfortunately, the clock striking midnight is not among the things for her to worry about. *2015 film*
1. Prologue Part One

**I just saw the 2015 version of Cinderella the other day and I absolutely loved it! So, this was created because, I'm a cruel person and I like delaying characters' happy endings. I'm generally part of the Jelsa fandom, so this is going to be something quite a bit new, but I'm going to attempt to get back into it because I have been a bit (lot) MIA, so wish me luck, I guess.**

**(By the way, I don't know if you are reading this but I'd like to say thank you to that one guest who recently reviewed on one of my more popular stories whom I cannot respond to because, well, you're a guest, it really meant a lot to me to know that people are still reading my work and liking it. You rock!)**

**Just a warning to any young or depressed people reading this; for a while, it's going to be kind of dark, okay? I'm sorry, but how it goes in the beginning can really move a plot along and I swear things will get better, but for the time… yeah, not your average Disney Cinderella.**

*****NOTE*** You really need to have seen the live action Cinderella to understand any of this. If you haven't, then, I use most of what happens before this scene where she's crying in front of the fountain...thing, but instead of running away to meet her fairy godmother and dancing till midnight away, her story starts here, and goes a little differently...**

* * *

**Prologue Part 1:**

**Cinderella**

* * *

Cinderella never meant to be, well, Cinderella, and yet, here she was, with her mother's ripped dress, crying before the fountain apologizing to her beloved parent for being frightened. And how frightened she was. Not only was she sad, incredibly, terribly sad, but she was so very afraid. She knew that Lady Tremaine was a cruel-hearted woman, but she never imagined she and her daughters would actually tear apart her gown- her mother's gown, to boot! She loved the gown, it was like a part of her old life, and now all her and the mice's hard work was ruined. She wouldn't be able to go to the ball, not like this. She had no name, no escort, no carriage, and she was sure that the Lady Tremaine would positively embarrass the living daylights out of her. There was nothing she could do.

"Mother," she cried softly, clasping her hands on the fountain until her knuckles turned white. "I am frightened. I do not want to live with the Lady Tremaine and her daughters. They treat me with cruelty and I wish to go somewhere else, to be someone else, but, alas, this cannot be. Magic has no place in this world. Maybe in the one before, but not in this one. I am so sorry, but I no longer believe."

Her eyes filled to the brim with tears and all she wanted was to crumble to the ground her sob until her heart could not bear it any longer. So she did. She sobbed and she cried and she hated her life. In her moment of weakness, Cinderella could not find it in herself to be kind nor courageous.

Her little mouse friends came scurrying into the courtyard to see what was the matter but she swatted them all away while wiping the streaming rivulets of water running down her face- to no avail. When Mr. Goose waddled slowly and flapped his wings at her, she sent him off in a shower of white feathers. When her dapple grey horse whinnied at Cinderella from his pasture, she simply yelled at him to quiet down. Nothing was working, she simply wanted to be alone, for alone she truly felt.

Cinderella's family hated her, that was all to be said. They didn't even allow her to eat with them at the table, that's how much of a disgrace she was. Cinderella, that's her name. She hardly remembered being called Ella, anymore. That's just simply not who she was. Cinderella was a pushover and a scullery maid who could not stand up for herself because she had promised to be kind. She made a promise on her mother's death bed. She supposed the least she could do was honor it.

"Please, mother, father," she whispered through her tears, "please give me a sign. It doesn't have to be a big one, I only desire one little thing; just something to know that I'm doing something right."

She held her breath and closed her tear streaked eyes, waiting and counting to seven in her head. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Large, innocent brown eyes met the world once again, but there was no change, no shift in the balance, nothing to give her what she so desired. Maybe she hadn't prayed hard enough. Cinderella squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could and counted to seven once more. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

Nothing. There was nothing.

She let out a breath. Of course. She should have known better. She had just been a silly little child when her mother told her all those stories, they couldn't possibly be real. Maybe young, orphaned maidens could meets handsome strangers in the woods, but they don't get any more than that. They don't get anything more than memories, they don't get to go to the Prince's ball, and they certainly don't get their happily ever after's. Was this her fate? To be miserable and alone for the rest of her days? She sure hoped it weren't so, but who was alive to care about her? The staff were all gone, there was no way Lady Tremaine was going to change anytime soon, and her animal friends couldn't really help her. She supposed it didn't matter.

Cinderella liked to believe that she could leave at any time, at any given moment, and start anew, maybe in a kingdom far away, maybe in the woods with all of her friends, maybe at the palace...maybe even meeting the dashing Mr. Kit along the way as well. The very thought brought a smile to poor Cinderella's face, but it was weak and meager. She simply didn't have the strength at the time to care. It was a nice imagination, but everyone must wake up as dreams are only a wish one's heart makes- they're not real life. She didn't really like her wake up call, but she figured that no one gets to choose their path along the way, why should she be any different?

A promise is a promise, and no matter how much she'd love to leave to some distant and mystical place, no matter the people in it this house was her home and no one could take that away from her. She would have courage and be kind. Or, at least, she could be kind. How could she be courageous? There was nothing to be courageous for. Her parents? Her animal friends? The bleak hope of a future that could never be? There was nothing. A story without a point is not a story anyone's time is worth wasting. Cinderella was that story. Nobody wanted the dusty old, cracked leather book on a bookshelf full of wonderful new stories, brand new with beautiful dressing and awing beholdings. Her story contained nothing but death and sadness, the few happy chapters ripped and torn to shreds along with her mother's dress.

There is no such thing as magic, she thought to herself. But she would stay here. She loved this house, she loved the memories it held, she loved the way it welcomed her in a way that she will never be able to feel again. Everything about it just screamed 'home' from the many, many artifacts from her father's travels to the butterfly wallpaper to the lovely garden and farmyard out back. She had used to love the people and animals that made it home, but the animals can't help her and the people she loved are forever beyond her grasp.

She sighed, shedding her last tear and watching it slowly and rather dramatically fall to the ground with a small splosh! Then, she gathered up her rags and stood.

Cinderella stumbled her way back into the house and up the stairs to the attic. Her old simple blue dress was laid there and she changed into it tenderly and lovingly. Her father had brought her that dress from France. He had said that blue was her lucky color; it brought out her eyes. She had argued that her eyes were brown and he changed his answer to her her hair, but Cinderella was no fool and knew that men had no taste in clothes whatsoever. However, he had done a rather splendid job of picking this garment in particular. It was Cinderella's favorite. Such a shame that she had to wear it for simple house chores but at least she had a token of her father with her always. She still had his branch tucked away beneath the floorboards of her quiet little sanctuary, where no one would ever be able to find it. Sometimes, when it wasn't too cold and drafty for her to sleep up there, she would cradle the branch in her arms humming her mother's old lullaby to it until she fell asleep, pretending that it was her father's soul and that if she sang to it, he might be able to hear it from heaven, for she was sure that's where he had gone.

The blue dress was completely ruined beyond any seamstress repair as there was too much dirt and tear, but it made for comfortable and memorable working clothes. So what, anyway? It's not like her stepmother and stepsisters actually cared what she wore, they would make fun of her if she was wearing the most popular style in all of the kingdom. Somehow, they'd find a way, of that she had no doubt. And don't even get her started on that cat!

She wondered if they knew that Lucifer was the devil's name… Then again, she also wondered when they would figure out that she did, in fact, know French and that the two girls weren't even speaking it right. She doubted that either scenario would turn out in any positive way.

Cinderella tied up her hair before slipping out of her worn shoes and stepping barefoot into the kitchen from the stairs. The good thing about being home alone was that she could steal all the food she wanted to and they wouldn't know- so long as she was subtle about the things she took. For instance, a chunk of bread here, a wedge of cheese there, a handful of grain, and a pouch full of oats, and they'd never notice. Her first stop was climbing back to the top of the attic. All of the riding, chores, and other vigorous errands her step family made her run did not fail to benefit her in the slightest bit of way. She could now climb the stairs without acquiring too much shortness of breath, but there were still a lot of stairs. Did she mention she hated climbing?

"Gus? Jacqueline? Little mice?" she called, carefully stepping over all of her parents' things Lady Tremaine had graciously set her with. She supposed she couldn't complain, at the very least, she hadn't burned them in the front yard or sold them as firewood or scrap metal. "Are you in here?"

A squeak sounded from below her feet and she yelped, jumping in the air and nearly dropping the tray of food. Luckily, she kept her footing and gently pulled herself together.

"There you are," Cinderella smiled at her little mice friends, who looked mostly relieved that she wasn't crying anymore. She then furrowed her brow. "I'm sorry for pushing you all away. I was upset and I didn't want anyone to worry about me so, well, I brought you all a little feast to make up for it."

Cinderella set the tray down and scooped the bread and cheese into her palm, smiling. She supposed she wasn't so alone. It really wasn't so bad, like she told Mr. Kit, there were surely others out there who had it worse than she did. And her step family wasn't all bad, she convinced herself. In fact, she might actually pity them. They didn't know how to manage a household; they only knew how to take advantage of others. Yes, she knew exactly what they were doing. She might be willing to please but she wasn't daft, not in the least.

Her mice friends gathered around in a circle as she knelt over, gently tearing the bread and cheese into bits and pieces for them. In her mind, they thanked her and happily ate. She smiled down at them, "You're very welcome."

Then, she sat up and dusted off her ragged dress, somberly gazing at her mother's soft pink gown. She sighed and navigated her way over. She'd really have to do something about all this stuff, it was much too cumbersome to maneuver around it every single time. She carefully folded the dress back together and walked it over to her collection of things beneath the floorboard. It took up most of the space but after she re-positioned her father's branch, it was enough. The young maiden delicately kissed her hand before tenderly placing it on the branch and dress. It was like her mother and father were with her, but only in that moment. She breathed it in and stashed it as her own secret jewel in the treasures of her memories.

The mice piped up once more and she swiftly placed the board back in its rightful position.

"Sorry my little friends," she said apologetically, "but I've more to apologize to. I'll have to join you all later, how does that sound?" She hoped they told her what was close enough to a 'yes', but that's all she really had to go on. "Alright then, I'll see you all when I return."

She slipped back down the stairs, scurrying down with the tray expertly balanced in her hands. Once she was outside, her first destination was to find that silly bird.

"Mr. Goose?" Cinderella called, craning her neck to scan the courtyard in search of the white-feathered fowl. She found him nestled by the wall with his head tucked in his wing. She must have startled him because when she came walking up, he shot into the air and squawked as loud as he could.

"Shh! Shh!" Cinderella cried. "I'm sorry," she laughed quietly as he flapped his wings frustratingly, "did I frighten you? I came to apologize. I brought you some grain."

She watched the vain bird immediately perk up as soon as she mentioned food. She stroked his small head lovingly as she pocketed the pouch of oats, then set the tray down so he could peck at the grain. Mr. Goose was a bit of a bird-brained creature, but that was the nice thing; he forgave people rather easily. He made a very good alarm, though, and had proven himself a decent guard. Cinderella left him with the tray knowing that all was right with him.

Next, onto Galahad. The beautiful grey stallion had been around Cinderella's estate for as long as she could remember. He was her companion who could take her away as fast as the winds could carry them to wherever she desired and she loved him so.

"Hello, handsome," she crooned, sweeping her neck in between the fence to catch his eye. Unfortunately, the male gender was generally very high strung and particular about the way they feel, despite what most people opted to think. Galahad had a tendency to hold a grudge. That is, until she pulled out the oats. His ears pricked forward and he nickered from deep within his throat, his long forelock hanging in his eyes as he took a ginger step towards Cinderella's outstretched palm.

"Come on, Galahad, I know you want it," she grinned. "And I'm sorry for yelling for you."

Galahad snorted and tossed his long mane dramatically, even going as far as to swish his tail. Cinderella playfully rolled her eyes, sensing that the stallion had already forgiven her and was simply giving her a hard time.

"Don't be haughty, I said I was sorry," she chortled. Galahad gave an irritated grunt before meandering over to the food, stretching his thick neck as far as he could reach to wiggle his muzzle and inhale the, albeit rare, but tasty treat. He then practically pushed himself up against the fence to nuzzle his loving caretaker's face. So much for the wash she had had earlier. Oh well, it wasn't like she was going to the ball anymore, anyway.

"Good boy," she stroked her horse's long, pale face, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against her companion's. She had already cried for the night, and she had to be courageous, for her mother and father, for her animal friends, for her home and what little she had left. Have courage and be kind, she had promised. It was up to her, now. She would have to be strong for them all. Cinderella deeply believed in herself that she could do it, she simply had to.

"Would you care too terribly if we were to go somewhere? We wouldn't have much time to do anything at all, really, I just thought that maybe…well, that maybe I could see the palace, or something."

The pretty horse gently nudged Cinderella backwards a little and she smiled. "That's my good boy," she climbed up onto the fence and patted his neck. Cinderella swung her leg over the large creature's girth and settled into a position of comfort. Her stepsisters wouldn't know nor understand, but riding a horse, even with a saddle, takes a lot more leg than they might imagine, and her body was always screaming with sores when she finished a stunt such as this, but she wouldn't give it up for the world. And, however much she liked not having to worry about the cricks in her neck or the pain in her back from a good day's ride paired with a slumber by the fireplace, there was simply nothing better than the wind flowing freely in her face with nothing in her hands but the natural mane of her dapple grey friend and feeling his pounding hooves with every stride through a bare flank.

She quickly unlatched the gate enclosing them in and spurred Galahad into an easy gait. The horse happily obliged as the last time he had been allowed to run freely was when Cinderella had taken him galloping into the woods and had met Mr. Kit. Cinderella couldn't help but feel just the taddest bit disappointed in missing her chance to ever see him again, but what could she do? She was just a little girl who dreamed of possibilities that could never be hers. But her dreams were all she had…and now they were stolen from her. Her eyes stung with a bitter, choking feeling in her throat, but she blamed it on the wind and pushed Galahad to go faster.

Finally, the palace from quite some distance came into view, but it made a wonderful spectacle. She vowed not to stay out too long as she didn't want to get caught skipping out on her chores, but it was a rather lovely sight. It was so big and bright, with fireworks exploding in the sky above. She couldn't help but wonder what it must be like to be inside it. Oh, what she wouldn't give to be there… But, it was not meant to be. Have courage, Cinderella, she told herself, and be kind. Maybe not now, maybe not soon, but someday, things will turn out alright. You'll see.

As Galahad dipped his majestic head to graze lightheartedly, the fair maiden atop his back sighed deeply and slowly leaned backwards, allowing her waving blonde locks to drape over her horse's rump, her dark, chocolate brown eyes fixed to the wondrous sight of the castle. When she finally shut them, she smiled and dreamed of dancing in that beautiful place so far away, perhaps with a dashing and charming stranger, perhaps with the mysterious but handsome Mr. Kit. Either way, she'd never tell.

* * *

Cinderella had never been so much as touched without loving intent before, let alone malice, but here she was, sprawled across the floor with her left cheek red and stinging, tears pooling in the bottom of her eyes. She was a smart girl and knew that the velocity and shock of the physical contact had been the thing to push her down, and it hadn't hurt all that much, really, but she couldn't help but stare, shell shocked, at the ground before her because, no matter how cruel Lady Tremaine treated her, she never imagined that she'd lay a finger on her in this sort of way.

"Don't you ever speak to me in that ungrateful way again, do you hear me, young lady?" the woman demanded with cold eyes and a dead heart. Her gloved finger waved in Ella's peripheral sight as she was supporting herself on her hands and knees on the floor.

It wasn't fair, Cinderella thought. Why must she yell at her for trying to say something other than 'yes, madame', 'no madame', or 'will that be all, madame?'? How could she treat her like this? In that moment, Cinderella wanted more than anything to leave. To run away and never look back, who cared what would become of the Tremaines? Let them rot in this house for all she cared.

Guilt quickly settled in the pit of her stomach for thinking so. She didn't have to think highly of them, but nobody deserved that line of thought. But she was still astonished and afraid and hurt and, and- and…

Broken.

That's what she felt; broken.

"Get up, you disgraceful child," Lady Tremaine spat, swishing in her black and green gown and gracefully exiting the kitchen. "And clean this mess up," she ordered over her shoulder. Cinderella sent a quick prayer of thanks to her mother and father that Anastasia and Drizella hadn't been in the room.

As solidly as she could, which was quite frail, to say the least, she rose from the floor, her lower lip trembling. She attempted to square her shoulders and face the world, but she couldn't bring herself to it. She was shaking too much. Her cinder-coated hands hung limply in the folds of her blue dress, her face smudged with the ash and dirt on the floor from which she had fallen onto. She couldn't say how long she stood there, trembling and desperately trying not to cry, all alone in the brightly lit kitchen with shattered plate and breakfast leftovers littering the floor.

'Why do you treat me this way?' That's all she had said. After all the long list of cruel and twisted things the Lady Tremaine had spoken to her, and that's all Cinderella had replied. Lady Tremaine had only grown silent for a moment or two. Cinderella, for one brief, foolish second, thought that maybe she would shrink back and apologize, but before she knew it, the dishes were falling from her hands and she was lying flat on the floor, Lady Tremaine's palm still frozen in the air.

The realization finally dawned on her. The fact that her stepmother had slapped her settled in her mind in a dark corner that eventually spread and consumed her thoughts, and suddenly, her whole entire being was screaming 'my stepmother hit me, my stepmother hit me!' It was too much and the tears spilled over, dribbling down her face and sliding into her quivering mouth, filling her taste buds with salty despondency.

Now, Cinderella rarely ever cried. She always put on a brave face and took it all in stride, nodding along and politely faking a smile. But this was so very different. She didn't- couldn't- understand how someone could bring a hand against a defenseless, lesser being. How- how could she?

She tripped over the debris of broken pieces but she managed to stumble her way to the door, bursting it open and sprinting into the courtyard, gasping for breath and squinting to see through the tears. She fell right before she reached the gate, sinking into her despair and bringing her hand to cover her open mouth as she downright bawled in the dirt. She wanted to leave. So, so badly. She could do it, she could refrain from looking back, start anew somewhere far away like she had dreamed about…

Really, though, Cinderella realized that no, she couldn't. She wasn't strong enough, and this was her home. Her friends were here and what would they do without her? She couldn't leave. She sobbed even harder because this simply couldn't be an option. She was trapped here as much as she belonged here. This place, her only home filled with loving memories that simultaneously served as a prison.

Leaving wasn't something she could do. Kindness, putting on a brave face, faking a smile, that's all she knew. But it wasn't enough. When there were people like Lady Tremaine in the world, where was it safe for her to believe in the impossible and reach for the stars as far as she could stretch?

Cinderella wasn't capable of living in a world so dark and evil, but she would have to. Her everything was here, she couldn't bear living anywhere else. She loved it here, no matter the cost of it. She wouldn't let anyone drive her off. She prayed for strength from anyone up there who would listen, her mother, her father, anyone, she didn't really care. She just wanted to be heard. She would be brave, she would try her hardest to be kind, and hope and wish and pray that there was some bit of magic left in this world of hers.

But when she picked herself and her faith back up, she wasn't too sure how strong either truly were, nor if they could ever again be restored to their previous potential.

* * *

**So...what did you think? Before you go: "there is something wrong with you", "you are a messed up person", or "this is so cruel", please note that I did say it was going to be darker than your average Cinderella story. For a while, yeah, it's going to be really depressing but that's what happy endings are all about, right? Finding hope in the darkest hours?**

**The next chapter (prologue) is in the making right now, and I can't promise that it'll be up soon as I am going out of town this upcoming week, but I can promise that it'll be up before the end of the month. Speaking of which, updates for this story won't be often, but I'll try not to make them once a month. Maybe once a week. Does that sound okay?**

**Well, I'd love your feedback, critics, things you loved, things you hated, I'll probably even read flames so long as they're criticizing something relevant that I haven't already warned you all about. Alright, thanks again and see you all next time!**

**~Pearlness4700**


	2. Prologue Part Two

**First off, I just wanna say that you guys are **_**amazing! **_**I cannot believe the insane amounts of follows, favorites, and even reviews that I've gotten for the first chapter! This is a really big boost of confidence for me since I've been gone for so long so thank you all so much. You have no idea how excited I am about this. Literally, I won't shut up about it and I'm sure my friend is sick of me now but oh well. Since the review replies will be incredibly long below, I'll cut off here and start with the chapter. My apologies as it's a little shorter than the last.**

* * *

**Prologue Part 2:**

**The Prince**

* * *

The Prince never meant to marry someone he didn't love, but it was among his father's dying wishes. Not that his father wished for him to specifically marry someone he didn't love, but a princess was the only suitable future queen for the kingdom and he had to marry one- one he did not know and one he did not love. He didn't want to, of course, and yet, here he was with the Princess Sasia of Arabia, sucking up to her snobbish behavior all because she appealed to his father. He respects his father and his judgement, he is a very good king after all, but he can't help but feel he's wrong on this one. So what, that mysterious girl wasn't a princess? She might not bring financial advantage to the kingdom, but he had definitely been one hundred times more attracted to her than he was to this Princess,. It hadn't been all about her looks. He meant, sure, she was absolutely beautiful, but her honest and innocent and over all _good _nature had reeled him in and he couldn't dispel her from his mind.

But, alas, she wasn't here. Much to his disappointment, mind you. He found himself missing her lively and refreshing outlook on life- the way she had only known him as Kit and not the Prince. 'We need only have courage, and be kind,' she had told him. Some wise words for a country girl. He couldn't help but admit that he was the slightest bit smitten with her. He might not have loved her, he had only met her once, after all, and briefly at that, but he certainly wouldn't mind getting to know her. And if he had to chose her as his bride, well, he wouldn't exactly say he'd be opposed to the idea.

Before he realized it, the Grand Duke was calling out for him to choose a girl to share the first dance with, and he was rather disappointed that his mystery girl hadn't arrived. She probably wasn't ever going to, though, so he might as well give up then. He really should have gotten some way to meet her once more, other than some vague input of desiring to see her again. At the very least, she had stated herself that the desire was mutual, but it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance meeting that he, more likely than not, would never see her again. And now he's stuck with the bland (albeit, beautiful, but very, very bland) Arabic Princess.

"May I have this dance?" he asked politely, calmly grasping her hand and planting a courteous kiss on her dainty hand. He wondered if the mystery girl's hands were as delicate as this. She was a server girl, he believed, so he figured probably not.

"Of course, your highness," Princess Sasia bowed stiffly, as if the mere prospect of bowing to someone below her was disputing.

The Prince didn't really enjoy dancing all that much. In fact, he rather hated it. Unfortunately, years of dance lessons had served him well. He tensely rested his hand on her waist as she expertly guided her hand to stand sentry right beside his face. This was someone who knew what she was doing, who knew exactly what to say and when to say it. He imagined that she would be a great ruler, but, well, he didn't want her to be _his _ruler. He didn't want to be married to someone he didn't love. His father loved his mother, he could see it in his eyes in the way he talked about her, and he wanted that- more than he realized.

The Princess had a terse smile set in her face and kept a mask of elegant prose. He'd never been able to hold his tongue whenever his father desired something that was beyond his physical or emotional capacity, he'd always wanted his voice to be heard, to be taken into account and treated with respect. He was a prince, of course people would listen to him, but he wanted more than that. Sometimes, he didn't really want to be a prince at all. He had too many duties to his people, too many laws constricting him to set boundaries,

He kept a stony throughout it all, finding it increasingly difficult not to scowl, but he managed a polite expression pulled from the depths of his self control. The Princess didn't seem to notice, but he didn't exactly care. Every now and then, he felt he should be doing something more courteous, like maybe converse a bit, but the thought just sounded revolting in his mind so he kept his words to himself.

Gods above he was bored, though. This was supposed to be a fun event. Well, as fun as a ball to find himself a suitor could be. Which really meant that it was not meant to be fun at all. These faces blurred together like a sea of nameless wanderers all jumbled together with one purpose; to meet the Prince, or, furthermore, him. Attention wasn't something he really minded that much, but an entire ball was a bit overdone. He would be polite, of course, but he really just felt overwhelmed and claustrophobic. It made him want to flee to his stables, have his horse saddled, and race off into the woods. Maybe if he did, he could find the mystery girl…

Simply put, that was wishful thinking. He knew he had to stay put and probably dance his night away with every girl in the room. How could his father expect one girl out of all of these to catch his eye and become his future bride? This was the life of a prince, he supposed. He couldn't help but sigh, just a little. Not enough to catch anyone's attention, just enough to express his discomfort. He was definitely going for a ride tomorrow, though. Who really cared whether he chose a bride tonight? He certainly didn't.

Finally, the song ended and he was to go off with another girl who was probably just as bland as the last. That was rude, he shouldn't think like that. After all, this was for his best interests. Well, not his, the kingdom's, but to be perfectly honest, they were one in the same. At times, he hated all the responsibility that lay resting on his head at every moment of the day. It made him respect his father a little more each and every time he realized just how much it displeased him. Because of his lineage, because of his duty to his people, the Prince could never be… normal. He would forever be the outsider, the lonely monarch who ruled with a fair hand, but was awfully uninterested. He wanted more of his life.

So, judge him if he was the slightest bit bored at the ball. All of the names blurred together and _God _how he wished he were somewhere else. Of course, night had fallen ages ago and even if he were to slip away they would surely miss him.

Quite a bit of time later, the Prince received a well-earned break and meandered his way over to the King.

"Good evening, your grace," he greeted, nodding curtly. He wasn't entirely sure what type of mood the old King was in as his face was sour but there was no news that could have spoiled his eager personality from earlier.

"Ah, Kit, my boy," he brightened immediately and gave him a hearty clap on the back. So a good mood, then. "Enjoying yourself, I see?"

"Not exactly my definition of enjoyment, however, it is a rather sufficient night, father."

Agree to disagree, he supposed. He kept his stance wide with his hands firmly clasped behind his back, feeling a bit claustrophobic. The Prince, specifically, did not have any fears, and small spaces were not something he had to be distressed about, however, they were quite irritable, in his own personal opinion.

"Well, I'm sure you'll find some young princess to woo by the end of the night," his father smiled. He brought the corners of his lips up in a polite but wrought reply.

"I think I require some air, I'll be back in a bit," was his solution to stall time. By some miracle, it actually worked and he was able to walk out on his own with no guards into the palace gardens. He relished in the novelty of peace, closing his eyes and dreaming for one moment of a world where he didn't have to go through all those extravagant parties and dress up in those suffocating clothes. He could just be himself.

Okay, fine, maybe he had lied. Just a tiny bit, it wasn't anything major, but he did have one fear. It was a perfectly _logical_ fear and he figured that any man he would come across in travels would agree with him, so it was not something irrational and devastating. Fear of oneself is what most people possess, whether they mean to or not. Who he was on the inside, well, sometimes, he wasn't too sure who that was. And that scared him. The Prince wanted a world where he knew who he was, and nothing, whether it be social division, class separation, financial crisis, or simply a new adventure, could ever convince him otherwise. Unfortunately, that was not this world. In this world, everything mocked him, taunted him, the beauty that was normalicy lay just beyond his grasp and no matter how far he reached he would never be able to achieve it. It was a rather depressing thought, really.

He openly sighed, longing the moment to last.

Was it just him, or did the clock seem to be moving slower than usual? Time was such a funny thing. What an unfortunate situation it had put him in, pinning his father's life against his marriage. What a grand performance of irony that stung him across the face like a graze from a fencing sword. My, my, time was a tricky thing. The invincible enemy whom everyone falls to sooner or later. Right now, his father's outlook was sooner, and the Prince hated how _limited _everything seemed.

Something exploded in the sky and his bright blue eyes immediately darted towards the black canvas of a nighttime atmosphere. Fireworks danced across his vision, painting a picture for a mere few seconds before fading away, each replaced by one more beautiful than the last. He found it a bit overwhelming, to be frank. All the noise and celebration, all for him. He should be honored and he was, he really was, but everyone in the kingdom… wow.

He tore his gaze away from the flares of gunpowder and fire and simply shut out the world for a moment. Everything around the castle was so dark and dreary, as if it had nothing to celebrate. It saddened him, for here he was, in the middle of the festivities, with loads to celebrate, but he was only one person compared to everyone else who had nothing to be happy for.

_Others have it worse than I._

The Prince couldn't remember the humble country girl's exact words, but it had been something like that. He really shouldn't pursue this path of despair for himself. Pity did not solve anyone's problems, and certainly, there were others who had it worse than him. He was rich, he was loved, he was content- for the most part, heck, he was _prince, _and yet he was not satisfied. More, more, more, he turned back to the palace with remorse in his thoughts. He was so, so selfish. And princes were not supposed to be selfish.

Another lesson learned from a wise girl whom no one will ever learn the name of. People could learn a thing or two from a girl like her. But she had already said it all, and now he was to keep his word, he would have courage and be kind, and maybe, just maybe, he'd get lucky and find the mysterious missing puzzle piece in his life that he was so desperately searching for. And though he had no clue as to what that might be, he wasn't going to give up on it.

* * *

Drones- all of them. He really couldn't help but think that they reminded him of the puppets he used to play with as a boy; beautiful, elegant, and perfectly made...but they weren't _alive, _and no matter how he pulled their strings, they never would be. Yes, that was a fine term for them all; puppets.

The Prince quickly returned to his father's side just as he was in the middle of discussing- gulp- marriage proposals. Of course. He quickly reminded himself that this is what his father wanted and he should respect that he knows what is best for the kingdom.

_But-_

_No buts._

He pursed his lips together and straightened his posture when the King glanced at him.

"Ah, there you are. Now, where were we?"

"We were discussing our currency situation, your highness," and Arabic representation bowed his head to the King in respect. The Prince held back his sigh because _of course _it was Princess Sasia the King was drawn to. So what, her kingdom ran a very well put-together society and were rich? Is that all there is to love? Benefits? He scolded himself once more as he shouldn't be thinking like that and he knew it. He couldn't help it, though, really. The worse part was that he was trying to be good, he swore, but it just wasn't coming to him as easily as it should. Politeness was something that was drilled into him since birth and it just hasn't stuck with him like fencing or riding. Being courteous was natural for a gentleman like himself but politeness was a whole different story.

"Yes, very impressive, I must say, don't you agree?" the Prince suddenly found himself addressed to and marvelled in how easily the conversation had slipped his mind completely.

"Oh, yes, quite," he agreed, flashing a charming smile and hoping his input made sense.

"Right then," the King frowned before turning back to their esteemed guests. "Would you please excuse me for a moment, I need to take a moment. Kit, please come with me."

_What did I do? _the Prince thought hastily but he nodded and complied all the same.

"Yes, father?" he asked innocently.

"I want you to know that Princess Sasia is a lovely girl and she has many aspects-"

"I know, father," he sighed, looking down and turning away. Somehow, the King sensed his son's distress and placed his hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

"I understand that this isn't easy for you, but our kingdom is in need of assurance that we will be secure in the fact that we have enough wealth to support our people. Nobody wants to live in a financially weak society," he reminded him. The Prince was suddenly struck with how much his father ceased to know _him _specifically. Of course he knew that the kingdom needed to be secure and protected, of course he knew how his future was to go, he just wished it could be something else. He wished that he didn't have to marry someone he didn't love. Maybe he would get lucky and fall in love with a maiden princess from the ball, but he sincerely doubted it. Fascination is the furthest two people could get after one meeting, and though he could not rid the country girl's charming demeanor and overall _real _beauty, he could not fall in love with someone he had just met.

No, it wasn't that he didn't understand his current situation, it was that he understood it a little _too _well.

"I understand, father. Princess Sasia is a wonderful...er, lady, and I'm sure her kingdom will bring many benefits," he nodded as if that would convince him. Who, his father or himself, well, he couldn't say that he was all too sure.

"Good," his father replied.

_Good, _thought the Prince.

Though it wasn't. It really wasn't. He despised this moment in his life and wished so much to make it disappear, but magic was for children and the Prince was not a child. He didn't quite know if he was a man yet, though, either. He liked to think that he was reasonable, could keep a clear head and a quick wit, but he found himself desirous of outlandish deeds or possibilities, he found himself angry or upset beyond appropriate behavior, and he found himself tongue-tied in the most dire situations. Truth be told, he wasn't very much of a man yet. He had yet to learn… and his father was set to leave much too soon.

So he would be brave, or more, courageous, and- heck, why not, kind as well- do what is best for his people and not himself. The kingdom comes before him, he'd always known that. He always thought that the choice would be easy but now that it was presenting itself to him the challenge was quickly proving to be more than he could bear. He hated feeling overwhelmed. He liked being in control, knowing his opponents, how to play the game, and most importantly, how to win. But this wasn't a game, it was life. His father wasn't the antagonist, he was just doing what was best. Anything where there was no definite side was not a clear subject in his mind. Learning his trade was true enough, he still had a long road ahead of him. What is best, he kept repeating because maybe, finally, it would stay in his brain for good and he would have an easier time proposing to Princess Sasia of Arabia.

Maybe he could find that life wasn't so different than a game, after all. So there weren't any clear bad guys and he wasn't exactly sure if he was on the right side, but there were players and ways to win. Right now, his path to success lead straight to the Princess of Arabia. He would follow it- for now. But he swore on his mother's grave he would not finish this off without exploring every possibility. After all, there was more than one way to win a game.

* * *

**Review replies:**

**BadWolf145: thank you so much! That means a lot to me and I'm really glad you liked it. And that's good that you're okay with an unstable updating system, cause I'm a little on the spastic side of things…**

**Guest: thanks! Hopefully it won't be **_**too **_**dark…**

**Bahamut-255: thank you, and again, glad that not updating constantly is okay so long as I update sometime.**

**Stormglass: I'm glad you are finding it interesting!**

**roseandtimelords: thanks! And for now, I'm trying to proof read it myself so I get used to no errors but I'll keep that in mind;)**

**Wiztine: Yeah, I read that, but I thought it was different for the live action movie…**

**vonny25: good:)**

**Catapapililar x3: thank you so much! And haha, hopefully we can find some way around that… Although I honestly don't know which ship that is, sorry... **

**CupcakeMonkey567: no, it's a multichap fic as of right now. I'm going to see the movie again tomorrow so I'll get more inspiration, yay! And right? I can't stop humming it! Good thing it's the inspiration song for the story.**

**Ajunebuga: thank you!**

**cflat: first of all love your username:) And then thank you so much for that, and I actually stand corrected, the horse is male. I even went through and changed the first chapter to that, so if it bothers anyone they can go back and double check that I fixed it.**

**Beyral: here you are!**

**scriberated: author buddies, lol! And yeah, but I think my slightly morbid group of friends does nothing for my sanity… Does it help that I'm probably the most sane, though?**

**Lelo: haha, yes, actually, and, um, does this chapter answer your question?**

**MyOTPsForever: thanks, and yes, I am going to try to keep everyone as in character as possible, but Cinderella is an honest to good person in every single action and speech that it's hard to imagine that her thoughts are the same way. This just kind of delves into it and hopefully doesn't change anything. Also, I'm sorry for all you hopeless romantics but me, personally, I do not believe in love at first sight and I find it really hard to write that way so… I didn't. Hopefully it still comes out okay?**

**guestt: thank you! Although, for this story, because it focuses on Cinderella without the magic, I'm not sure if the fairy godmother will even be a character so we will see.**

**Thank you all so much for all the really nice input and great reviews. I'm not asking you to but I would love it if you reviewed again or decide to leave one now. If it keeps up like this I won't be able to answer everyone but I guess we'll see how it goes from here. You all are amazing, until next update!**


	3. Chapter One

**Wow, thanks again for the positive reviews. I can't wait until this story really starts to get going! Okay, well, I don't really have anything else to say other than thank you guys so much! Review replies at the bottom.**

* * *

**Chapter 1:**

**Cinderella**

* * *

~_Three years later~_

Cinderella had long since realized just how incompetent her step family was, but they gave a whole new meaning to it when they could no longer continue on as the way they were. Food was getting scarcer and scarcer for them and she often went without her fair share- well, as a fair a share as they ever gave her- on cold winter nights. Most of their chickens had died off from the worst of the hiemal season so they had barely any other source of food, and there were still quite a few more weeks of drafty frost nipping at the family's miserable fingers while they shuddered in moth bitten blankets. Cinderella's face was even more dirty with each passing day as the attic was much too cold to even think about shutting her eyes comfortably up there. She'd scrub her face clean in the morning with water heated on the kettle but she was still just as much a creature of ash and remains than ever.

"This simply cannot go on; we need _argent!_" Anastasia cried one night wrapped in blankets and warming herself by the fire while Cinderella tended to their meager supper. As she came up behind them with a warm cup of tea for each of them, the cruel, red-haired girl stuck her snobbish nose up at her and added haughtily, "That means _money, _if you don't know."

"Of course," she smiled and nodded, even though she knew exactly what she was saying. She wasn't a complete idiot despite what the girls thought. She gently set the tray down and turned to Lady Tremaine. "Will that be all, Madame?"

"No, it will not be all, you foolish girl," she snapped bitterly. "We're all ruined. We have no daughtry to our name, the house is falling to shambles, and we are all freezing!"

Cinderella, slightly offended by the downgrading of her beloved house, glanced around the walls. They looked fine to her. The bare minimum of leaks had kept them dry enough throughout the past winter months. Their remaining money was quickly being drained in trying to pay off Lady Tremaine's debts and Cinderella feared that they had pushed their luck too far. She simply would not let them loose the house, not when she promised her father…

"Perhaps," she spoke out, feeling self conscious as they turned their cold, dark eyes to her, "I could travel to the castle. Maybe find work as a scullery maid?"

So fine, the castle had been the first thing to pop into her mind. Surely there were other, closer places to find work, but it would certainly be the best pay. Not to mention, after all this time, she might possibly find- no, no, that was not suitable thinking for someone like her. Besides, he couldn't be an apprentice any longer, he might not even be at the castle anymore.

"Don't be ridiculous. Who would want to hire _you, _I mean, just look at you!" Drizella chortled and let out a high pitched squeal of a laugh, making Cinderella cringe. She wasn't that awful, was she?

She fretfully glanced down at her appearance. She couldn't exactly say that she was beautiful; three years of hard work and not enough meal had not been kind to her and she lingered on the edge of skinny and just plain unnatural. Her blue dress was so faded it was no longer pretty and well fitted, the ends tattered and torn to dirty rags. For this season, she wrapped herself in a thin shawl to keep warm in her outside chores and stuffed her worn shoes with cotton to keep her toes from gaining hypothermia- which it accomplished but only just. All over was still numb. Along with three years of malnourishment came three years of slight physical abuse. After the first time Lady Tremaine slapped her she had not hesitated to treat her brutally and even more cruel than she had before. It was nothing serious that left any permanent damage- they still needed her for the house work, after all- but she had several bruises that refused to fade and a slight limp from yesterday when she had been pushed against the table and twisted her ankle. She estimated that it would fade by the end of the day, she had always been a fast healer.

There are many reasons why Cinderella never told anyone about her treatment. For one, who could she tell? The King? He was frail at best and everyone knew he was dying. It was a miracle he had held out for the past couple years and he had one foot in the grave. She hated to be rude but nearly everyone talked about it in town. No one would believe a simple servant girl like her, anyways. Lady Tremaine could bat her eyes, snap open her fan and wave off her claims as lies and no one would think twice about it. She wished she could and be taken away, but that was just it; even if, miraculously, someone _did _believe her, they would take her away. She knew that it wasn't right, but things like this happened in her time and the only thing she could do was make the best of it. She had her home, she had her friends, and she could find some happiness every now and then.

Cinderella subconsciously reached up and wiped away the cinders on her face. Her hand felt much too cold and just _thin _but she didn't think about it. Her long waving blonde hair hung limply in her eyes as she normally kept it so as to hide any black eye or mark on her face should one appear and she had to make a trip to town. Her brown eyes had hardened over time; they no longer held their pure belief and innocence that she liked to believe she used to possess. This was her world and she knew it. She couldn't run away from it because that would be running away from all she had ever known. It wasn't just her parents that were holding her here, she truly loved this place and couldn't bear to leave it. She just didn't know what else to do.

"I'm sure someone would hire me," she protested weakly, training her eyes on her shoes.

Anastasia and Drizella laughed together, drooping her blankets momentarily before shivering in a coughing fit and wrapping themselves up. Lady Tremaine glared at her daughters, but Cinderella knew better than to think the reason was their laughter at her.

"I suppose that's not a terrible idea. But, who ever would do the work here?" Lady Tremaine exclaimed not-so-innocently.

_Maybe you could do a thing or two around here, _she thought in her mind but instead expressed, "Oh, no, I could still do my chores here. I'll probably be gone in the mornings or evenings, I won't be gone for both. I can surely work in both places and earn enough to support us for the rest of the winter, Madame."

"What an excellent idea," she smiled and leaned back, her sickeningly sweet and not to mention _fake _aura wafted off of every fiber of her being and made Cinderella choke. Through it all, she kept an even tone and a calm face. "There it is, then. You shall seek a job tomorrow at the castle. We don't expect you home until you do, understood?"

"Of course, Madame," she replied. "I'll prepare Galahad tonight."

The two step sisters once again broke out into a fit of giggles.

"She actually _likes _riding that thing!"

"The only thing those creatures are good for is drawing carriages and even then that _mule _refuses to pull."

Cinderella sucked in a breath but turned and fled the room before she said something she'd regret. Galahad was _not _a _thing, _he was a _horse _and he didn't like pulling carriages because he was not a carriage horse, simple as that. And he was one of her best friends. She couldn't stand it when they picked on her friends like they always did and had been punished before for speaking out of turn for it. That was what she got for standing up for herself in this house. She had quickly learned against it.

She liked to think that she could fix herself up a bit, maybe mend her gown, but she really couldn't. Not because she didn't have the resources to, but they might take pity on her and hire her more. She still wanted to be presentable so she spent nearly forty-five minutes scrubbing her skin raw and washing her face multiple times. Once she raised her face from the mirror, she was surprised to see a girl standing in her place. _Is that really me? _she thought. Her mouth twisted into a fretful frown because the girl staring back at her looked absolutely dreadful.

"You can do this," she whispered, placing her palm gingerly on her reflection. For now, she truly believed this. Perhaps this was the opportunity she had been waiting for, maybe this was her big chance to change things around finally. Maybe… That word in and of itself was such a vague promise. She needed to get a grip; this wasn't some fairy tale where she could endure all this pain and suffering and get her happy chance to fix everything that had wronged her. One cannot get revenge against life.

Revenge was another strange word, one that Cinderella found rather distasteful. It was just an awful sound on the tongue and was so ugly. Nothing good came of it. Exchanging one blow in return of another does not make things right. She just needed to keep her head high and hope that things eventually worked out. If it didn't, well, she had already had her great happiness in life. The years spent with her mother and father might have been robbed from her but they were the best years of life, no matter how short. Happiness was so plentiful and she always had a smile on her face. Some things are not meant to last, she figured, and she should be grateful for the gifts that her life had been able to give her.

In a way, she should be thankful that they had kept her sheltered from the cruel and realistic ways of the world. She had been innocent, ignorant, and childish. Now, she wasn't any of those things, but it had been nice while it lasted. And shouldn't everyone be happy with the things that they are given? It's nearly impossible to change fate or destiny, and if this was hers, well, she could mope and be miserable and cry about it all she wanted but it wouldn't change matters. She was still a little blue bird with a broken wing that would never heal kept in a cage made of the finest jewels and gold; a beautiful thing filled with value but a cage, nonetheless.

Cinderella wasn't foolish enough to believe that she was finally going to spread her wings and fly away, she was merely being let out to taste the freedom that would never be hers. For a while, though, she could just pretend. She could pretend she was beautiful and lived in a nice life that didn't take away her happiness no matter how hard she tried to make the best of it.

She sighed and deserted her post in front of the looking glass. She really shouldn't get her hopes up so high, after all, the higher she flies, the further to fall.

Galahad was antsy the next morning, of that Cinderella was sure of. His long and sculpted face was brought down to his chest and his large feet pranced in place as he waited not-so-patiently for his owner to saddle him. Cinderella practically chased him down in the paddock just to be able to halter him and lead him to a place where she could tie him in place.

"Seriously, Galahad, why are you so jazzed up? We're just going for a ride," she scolded half-heartedly as he tossed his head and nickered. "I'm not going to want to ride into the palace on a mentally unsound steed."

The gallant horse snorted, offended, and struck the earth with his fore foot impatiently. Cinderella suppressed a giggle as she slid off his halter and cunningly stuck the bit into his mouth. Galahad had always had a particular dislike for bridles and saddles so Cinderella tended to not use them, however, this was the palace she was going to, even if she did intend to use some pity to her advantage she wanted to be seen as respectable.

"Let us be off, my dear friend," she whispered in his ear as she swung her leg over the saddle and no sooner did she utter the words than Galahad's grey ears pricked forward and the pair were galloping off. In that moment, she couldn't find it in herself to worry about money, jobs, cold, or her own health. In fact, she couldn't bring herself to care about anything at all. But it was only a moment.

Cinderella and Galahad travelled along the road for the most part, passing no other wandering soul on their journey. For that she was glad, the less people to catch sight of her the better. Cinderella absolutely despised attention, but that might be due to Lady Tremaine's definition of "attention" that she had grown used to.

It was only when the castle stood tall and firm in the distance did she realize that she really didn't have a clue as to how she would find a job in the first place, let alone navigate her way around the palace grounds. Where would she even go? She fretted about this for quite a while but before she knew it the gates were in front of her and her dappled horse's steady rhythm slowed to an easy trot. Where ever she was supposed to go, she didn't know, but she could see that the palace was gorgeous. It was so _big _and intimidating and it made Cinderella feel very small. She had never been to the palace before, but she had seen it from afar. She quickly settles that from afar was nothing in comparison to the beauty within the walls. She couldn't help the small, wondrous smile adorning her face as she and Galahad paced through the streets.

Perhaps luck did have some way of reaching through for her, as, through the crowds, she spotted none other than Elizabeth, Cinderella's old family cook.

"Is that Galahad and Ella I spy?" she cried happily as she trotted up beside her.

Cinderella slipped down with a large, bright smile from her horse's back and greeted her old friend with a warm embrace. "It's so good to see you."

"And you, as well, Miss Ella," the lady smiled. Her kind eyes reminded Cinderella of home and just how happy things used to be. But she, too, was dressed in rags and did not look as though she were faring too well.

She expressed her concern for her but Elizabeth waved it off. "I've found work at the palace and I've plenty to support myself with, don't you worry, Miss. But you, my dear, look as though the winter season has brought you ill fortune. What brings you to the palace?"

"I simply cannot believe my luck," Cinderella exclaimed merrily. "First I run into you and then you happen to work for the palace? I am here in hopes of finding work to support us for the rest of the winter."

Elizabeth frowned and she quickly wondered what she said wrong. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you-"

"Oh, no, pardon me, Miss, I didn't mean to sound like that. But, you see… Your stepmother. She's treating you well?"

Cinderella didn't want to tell her the truth, but she hated to lie. So, she settled with half and half, a phrase she used quite a long while ago. She shrugged and stated, "She treats me as well as she is able to."

She can't help but feel saddened when Elizabeth responds, "That's a relief. I'm sure the King and Prince could do with one more helping pair of hands. Lord knows all the things they've been doing lately."

She pushed the distant memory underneath a floorboard in her mind and smiled graciously. "Thank you so very much. You have no idea what this means to me."

"Of course, anything for you, my dear," Elizabeth smiled back and offered her arm. Cinderella linked her own with her former cook's and lead Galahad through the maze of people toward the palace.

She was very excited, as was to be expected, but she was also a little nervous. What if they didn't like her? What if they thought she was too much a disgrace to work for them? Who would she even be seeing to get work? She didn't know any of these things, she'd never had to get a job before to earn money.

There were certain times where she actually did like cleaning, she expressed towards the head maid of the palace. The head maid's name was Belinda and she was an older woman with a sharp tongue and quick, brittle fingers that curved downwards like a skeleton. Cinderella had been just the tiniest bit intimidated by her but she vowed to have courage and be kind and if she couldn't achieve both she might as well have one. She was polite and prayed that she had seemed courageous enough. Belinda had kept her dark, stormy blue gaze on her the entire time, giving no hints about her thoughts or feelings about Cinderella whenever she spoke.

"...And I have any time of the day works, really. I have experience with housework, cleaning, cooking, sewing, I can help out with nearly anything." she finished weakly, hoping that she would accept her work and Cinderella could return home happily.

The old woman gestured Elizabeth to her side and whispered something in her ear as she knelt down to her seat. Elizabeth smiled and stood, giving Cinderella a happy expression. She mouthed the words, 'she likes you' to her but Cinderella was skeptical of that theory. The woman had that kind of stare that just kept you wondering whether they were simply calculating or were plotting your murder. Cinderella couldn't even stand up to her family, she doubted she'd be able to raise a hand against a stranger.

"Ms. Belinda would like to know when you would like to start?" Elizabeth asked politely, but Cinderella could see the happy glint in her eyes. She felt like letting go of a breath she hadn't even been holding. Now she had hope of surviving in her family home for the rest of the season, at least, without Lady Tremaine and her stepdaughters getting on her case. She drew her shawl tighter around her arms and smiled.

"I can start today, if that is what you wish, madame," she said. And so, Cinderella began her first day of work at the palace. When she returned, exhausted from the rides and the work, she still had her chores to do at home but she didn't mind that much because, for the first time in a long period, she had tasted freedom. Not of work or social standing, but of her life in general. She had been able to pretend that things weren't as messed up as they really were, that she was just a normal servant girl trapped in poverty like everyone else. Cinderella wasn't really like everyone else, but she found herself rather liking to pretend. It wasn't quite the same as dreaming but, with the way things were right now, it was as close as she could get.

For now, that was good enough. She just hoped it lasted.

* * *

**Review replies:**

**IronJedi: thank you and here you go! Sorry it's kind of late…**

**Catapapililar x3: haha, I'm sorry about that. I hate it when you want to read a certain type of story and there's nothing. So, write it yourself, is the solution, I guess! And yeah, as much of classic Disney that is, I just don't believe in it, like, at all, and would have a hard time trying to write like I did. It's just unrealistic, in my opinion. And don't worry, I really don't care if you ramble on in your review, it made me laugh!**

**Diving in: of the sorts ;) And thanks, me too.**

** : Thank you! Honestly, though, I'm really surprised this many people came across this story in the first place. Just out of curiosity, was it just on the browse, first thing that came up? Cause I know that Cinderella fanfiction isn't all that big, so I'm surprised with the amount of feedback I've been getting. It's awesome, though, and I would love it if you all kept it up!**

**ekzab2000: haha, I may be that mean and evil… But probably not. As much as I love a twisted story I'm a sucker for happy endings. Doesn't mean we won't have to go through the twisted story plot, though! Brace yourselves, I guess…?**

**Elphabalover101: thank you!**

**Any questions, comments, thoughts, concerns, stuff like that, I don't care, I'd love to hear it! Hope to see you next update!**


	4. Chapter Two

**Sorry this is so short for such a late chapter (my review replies are really long) but I was on spring break and it was really hard to find the time to write a whole new chapter. So, this is hopefully the last introduction chapter and you all will get some action (well, you know what I mean) next time. And, also, I think I'm going to put my A/Ns up here and review replies down below. And if any of you ever have any questions that you find you can't answer through reviews, feel free to PM me, I'd love to listen to what you have to say! Unless you hate my story and want to give rancor to it, then spare me. Alright, enjoy the chapter, I'm sorry about not updating again!**

* * *

**Chapter Two:**

**Cinderella**

* * *

There were many things that Cinderella picked up from working at the palace, but the biggest thing she learned was how much the handmaids gossiped about the Prince. Simply from her three days she had learned that the young royal had been holding off his engagement to the Princess Chelena of Zaragoza, even though he had previously been engaged to the Princess Sasia of… hmm, that one seemed to have slipped her mind. Either way, someone, she believed the Duke and royal Adviser, had persuaded him otherwise and he had been stalling the new wedding for the past three years because of his father's health. In every respect, Cinderella couldn't blame the Prince for not wanting to marry a complete stranger. She was a firm believer that marriage should be done out of love and not arrangement, though she might have been biased because her parents were the happiest people she had known and someday, though it was a far off dream like most things seemed these days, she wanted exactly what they had had. Besides, it wasn't the Prince's fault that he had been born into a family whose whole lives were practically systematized. He simply wanted a choice- he had a dream of being free to do what he wished, and though it seemed this provision was for the good of the kingdom, who was she to degrade a fellow dreamer for wanting something out of his limits?

In this way, Cinderella sympathized with the Prince, if only slightly. She wasn't going to lie and admit that she wasn't the slightest bit disturbed by his glorious ease in life but she had a certain talent for being able to step in someone else's shoes and see things from their point of view, which was why she could understand the responsibility on his shoulders and how he shuddered from its weight. She was there practically everyday. Albeit, she had much less a responsibility but it was weight on her shoulders all the same.

Cinderella had yet to see the handsome prince herself, but she didn't care all that much. The most he might do would be to scoff at her appearance, and that's only because she'd heard he was very kind. Self conscious didn't begin to describe her at this point in time; she'd endured far too much mental torture from her step family to be positive, and besides, she _did _look absolutely dreadful, slender would be the most gracious descriptive term for her figure, and unkempt was merely a polite way to characterize her. Her dress was rags, her hair was thin and scraggly, her face gaunt and angular in the most unattractive way; overall, she just didn't look healthy. Lucky for her, though, her mistreated being went mostly unnoticed as the winter had been harsh to most and she blended right in with the staff. Oh, no, there was no way on heaven or earth that she'd ever even _want _the Prince to catch sight of her.

True, she still very much held hope that the dashing Mr. Kit remained here still, but she wasn't even sure if she'd want to see him again- oh, who was she kidding, of course she wanted to see him again. He had been exceptionally kind to her. The mysterious individual had seemed like the type to not judge by appearances, and he had stated that he wished to see her again, did he not? Indubitably, the chances of the two meeting again were very, very low- it'd have to take a miracle and magic simply doesn't exist- but she could dream right? That appeared to be the only thing she could do nowadays. But would he still desire to meet her once again? No, certainly not, he'd probably forgotten all about her. Who would remember her, after all?

"Miss Ella, are you feeling ill?" Elizabeth's voice snapped Cinderella out of her momentary stupor.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm afraid I didn't acquire much sleep this previous night," Cinderella frowned apologetically. That was a lie, though. She hadn't slept because she'd had to attend to a wince-worthy bruise on her shoulder that still ached a little as she stood. "I just got distracted; it won't happen again, I promise."

"No need to fret," the older woman smiled kind heartedly. "Why don't we bring these clothes down to the washing room? The King and Prince will want these back sooner as opposed to later, wouldn't you think?"

Cinderella smiled and agreed, "Yes." She bent on her knees to pick up the scattered clothing that Elizabeth had ambled in on her dropping not moments prior, neatly stacking them in the large wicker basket. She was a little tired, though, but her focus was sound enough. She was used to this, it was nothing new. Perhaps she'd been working overtime and would most likely have to for the rest of the time being but she could and would not deny that, working at the palace, she was something she hadn't been in ages: happy. That alone was worth all the effort she fixated into her daily life. This was only her third day and still, she had found a sincere friend in Elizabeth and gained better treatment from the curt nods passing the other handmaids in the corridors. Cinderella had been lucky enough and that the past three years of slaving away in her own house had served her well and had graduated from a scullery maid to the more difficult tasks around the castle within the first few hours of her work after she had mended a few aprons, sweeped out the kitchen, and prepared quite a few breads. She often worked side by side with Elizabeth washing royal garments or cleaning the rooms of the castle. Tomorrow, ELizabeth had informed her that very morning, they would be leaving for the town to buy supplies from the local markets. She rode by the place every day on Galahad and went once every two weeks for home necessities, but she had yet to actually go there and enjoy herself. She wouldn't have to spend forever counting her numbers to be extra sure she had enough, it wasn't her money to spend and the castle would be sure to give them enough for everything on the lists.

The two girls spent the rest of the day in the washroom with the garments, scrubbing until their hands were raw but awfully soft. Cinderella didn't mind washing all that much. It was actually quite relaxing and was one of her favorite tasks to do at home. Veritably, her stepsisters always had far too many dresses for their own good but it was still relaxing in its own way.

Just as they hung the very last robe to dry on the clothesline, Cinderella stood and stretched her back. "I'd call that a job well done," she smiled.

"As do I," Elizabeth agreed. shaking out her fingers.

"Yes, I do rather love the image of clean clothing. It's quite refreshing compared to the bleak and dirty garments of the townspeople," she twisted her mouth in sympathy. These people were able to pay for help around the castle, throwing money around for their servants to pay for their shopping, when there were many other people out there who had a difficult enough time bringing dinner to the table. She understood that the King and Prince did all they could, but she couldn't help but feel like it wasn't enough. And for that, she felt comparatively selfish. They were trying their absolute hardest, and the effort is all that counts, right? But that still didn't change the fact that more and more people were slipping into poverty each and every day. It was just the winter, she was sure. Come summer, everything would be right with the world. They'd had their time to sleep and rejuvenate, it was time to get back on their feet.

"Ella, watch yourself!"

Cinderella took one step and just her luck, her ankle cried out in pain from _three days ago _and she thought it was healed already, but, alas, it was not and she stumbled… right into the washing basin. She sputtered to the air, the lukewarm water soaking her clothing and face, making it impossible to see.

"Ella!" Elizabeth cried, rushing to her aid.

Physically, she was unharmed (well, her ankle was throbbing a bit but other than that), but in her mind, she was so embarrassed. How much of an ignoramus had she looked when she tripped over her own feet and fell into a giant bucket of water? Her face flushed with a scarlet red coloring and she attempted to stammer that she was fine but all that came out were miniature and barely audible squeaks.

Once she came sopping out of the water basin, she surveyed the damage through squinted eyes. Her dress was completely soaked and she would freeze if she went home in it, brown, muddy water ran down her fingers and arms, revealing just how grimy her skin had become throughout the years of mistreatment. She could feel her hair, normally waving yet no longer healthy and a bit stringy, hung in limp fragments and had turned a few shades darker. She breathed out, pulling herself together.

_You're fine, _she tried to convince herself, _it's not a big deal, just pull yourself together._

"You simply cannot go home like this, you'll freeze!" Elizabeth exclaimed, grabbing a few clothes neatly folded on a shelf.

She wished she could agree, but she pointed out, "No, there's no harm done to me. I'm so sorry about the mess, I didn't mean to, I swear. And I'm fine, the palace isn't too far-"

"It's a long ride home, Ella. I'm not going to let you fall ill to the weather when it's just beginning to let up. Stay here, and get out of that dress. I'll be back in a moment." Elizabeth presented Cinderella with a thin robe that was by far softer than anything she could ever remember feeling and quickly took her leave in a hurried pace. Cinderella stared down at her own garments, slightly torn and definitely weary. She sighed and ducked behind some sheets, peeling off her dress carefully and wrapping the robe around her shivering body.

While she waited, she began to sop up all the excess water pooling on the floor with the extra cloths. She was nearly finished by the time Elizabeth returned.

"Here, change into this," she said with a smile.

"Oh, you didn't have to bring me another dress, I can just hang mine and wait for it to dry, I can't take-"

"Oh, sure you can," the older lady waved off her refusal. "It won't hurt to have that thing washed out a bit. Why don't you mend the thing? You certainly have the skills."

But what she didn't have was the time. Cinderella failed to mention this as she held her tongue, but all the same, this state of treading carefully complied her to accept the gown handed to her. It wasn't like it was anything fancy, just a put-together hem of different shades of brown and tan that probably made herself look even more boringly average than usual. It was a little loose on her ailing frame but it was warm and, better yet, dry. She wouldn't complain, though she still felt uneasy about taking someone else's clothes.

"But what if the owner needs them?" she fretted. "Surely they will want them back soon."

"I told you, Ella, don't worry about it," she pressed and Cinderella eventually was forced to drop it. Together, they stacked the damp wardrobe into two wicker baskets and carried one each. Cinderella put in an extra effort not to appear lame, as the tendons in her ankle were still offended in a cross way; as far as making her want to wince every now and then. It wasn't fair, she twisted it _three days ago!_ Her hair still clung to her face and she was sure she looked absolutely horrible, but she tried not to put too much thought into it. She would be home soon and it didn't exactly mattered what she looked like there.

As the two friends began to part after they dropped their baskets off, Elizabeth called out to Cinderella, "Have a good ride home, Ella!"

"And you, as well!" she replied just as chipper, despite the fact that the other lady ceased to own a steed. Not to mention, she lived in the town, not too far from the market, herself.

Cinderella kept an easy pace, allowing her left foot to take a second or two less than her right. She hummed 'Sing, Sweet Nightingale' as she sauntered along to the field she had left Galahad in, swishing her new dress ever so slightly in imagination that she was simply on her way for a ride, not exiting the beautiful castle dream and coming into an odious home nightmare. Maybe she would get lucky and some of the chores wouldn't need minding. She could use a little extra sleep…

Of course, fate chose that moment in time to send a little, shall we put, refresher, to Cinderella. A large and very dark steed came racing past her, not inches from her face. She gasped and leaped back, her right hand coming into contact and meeting with her chest as she took in a deep breath. The horse- a deep and beautifully rich ebony charcoal steed, its coat darkened by the lack of sun to dye it a lighter shade- came screeching to a halt and the man atop the horse turned to face her.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" He was a rather large looking man, if anything. Not fat, and not that that was a bad thing, if someone was considered 'fat' this time of year they were gazed upon with the utmost envy, but more in a heavily built, muscular type of way. He was a colored man, no doubt, with his dark skin and flash of pearly and perfectly white teeth and a smidge of black fuzz surrounding his balding head. He spoke with a slight accent by the likes of which Cinderella was unfamiliar with.

"I-I'm fine," she stammered, pulling herself together from an embarrassing moment for the second time that day- not to mention this one was in front of Royal Guard. Well, that just made her day about fifteen times better. "You simply gave me a fright, that's all. But the fault is entirely mine, I assure you, good sir, I really must learn to watch where I am putting my feet. I humbly apologize, Mr."

She bowed respectively, and she heard the man chuckle, muttering something that sounded an awful lot like, 'Now I know how the Prince peels', and she was going to assume that she heard wrong and 'peels' was really 'feels', seeing as that made much more sense. He was talking in hushed whispers, she'd gotten what she could. The man, dressed in the bright blue, white, and yellows of a uniformed guard, met Cinderella's eyes and she tried her best not to cower from the sheer authority they held.

"Nonsense," he smiled. "I am to blame, of course; you are too kind, my lady. I fear I have caused you distress and you must allow me to make amends."

"Oh, no, that won't be necessary," she immediately protested. She didn't want to cause him any trouble, and lending her a hand for whatever she desired seemed like far too much 'trouble'. Cinderella hated to bother others, she wasn't worthy of anyone else's attention, especially of someone as high up as a castle guard.

"Please, I insist. Where are you headed?"

Cinderella desperately wanted to protest further, but then, why shouldn't she accept his kindness? It came at no cost to her; kindness was, after all, one of the very few things that came free in this world. She beamed graciously, "The pasture just beyond that cottage over there. Thank you, kind sir."

"The pleasure is mine," he said courteously, helping her onto the tall horse. She really didn't need all that much help seeing as she freely mounted the tall stallion Galahad each and every day, but she was in slight discomfort from her foot and it was a wonderful relief to acquire a ride to her destination. It wasn't often she received care from another and she welcomed it, despite her unease of troubling someone else.

Her dapple grey friend whinnied from his grazing as Cinderella slid from her perch on the black horse. Galahad trotted up to greet her and she stroked his face, turning back to the guard. "Thank you so very much," she bowed, doing her best to look presentable. Though the brown dress was sewn of several different scraps of material, it was still far nicer than her own attire. Although she did prefer her particular coloration. Her hair was still dark with dampness and the cold did nothing to quell it, generating an even greater arctic temperature to her shivering body. She dispelled the shuddering and pressed her side into Galahad's warm and furry flank.

"Of course, my good lady," he replied, nodding his head to her respectively. She watched him ride off, for he had been a rather kind man. People such as that man were often hard to come by, and Cinderella couldn't help but desire more of them; the kind of people to offer kindness to any wrong they believed they did, no matter how small, the kind who treat others with respect and dignity no matter what conspicuous class they were.

She voiced her thoughts aloud to the proud stallion, rubbing his neck fondly before reaching for his bridle hanging from the side of the fence. It took a fair amount of coaxing but she was finally able to mount the dancing horse, favoring the flexibility in her left leg and mounting from the right side opposed to the regular left.

The wind stung her face as the pair galloped along the back roads, but she performed her best to ignore it and press home. The afternoon was reaching its peak and she wanted as much time possible for her chores back home. She was sure that the Lady Tremaine and her daughters would not be happy with her punctuality.

"You're late," was how she was greeted when she scurried inside, out of the bitter cold after unsaddling Galahad.

She wafted a warm breath into her hands and bowed her head. "I am sorry, Madam, something distracted me at the castle and delayed my return."

Lady Tremaine made a displeased sound in a low tone. Her perfectly smooth hair was confined in a thin net, her dress a casual but elegant clash of soft green and vibrant black. Even on the edge of poverty, she was still a pristine and elegant lady. However, Cinderella did not envy her, for she knew that her heart had been tainted with darkness, and instead of overcoming it, she embraced it with open arms. In this way, she would never be able to feel such jubilant emotions like happiness or love ever again. In fact, she wasn't sure if she had ever been able to feel them and this made Cinderella commiserate towards her.

"See that it doesn't happen again," she eventually conveyed in a voice far from amused. She eyed Cinderella's dissimilar apparel but, much to her surprise, desisted to comment it and with a swish of her petticoats was gone.

The fair-haired maiden blew a soft sigh out of her mouth, rubbing her arms for some sort of warm comfort. She made a mental note to smuggle a bite of cheese for the mice before heading to the kitchen and grabbing a broom. So it seemed, the work of poor Cinderella was never done.

* * *

**Miss-L14: thank you so much!**

**ekzabo2000: haha that's good. And we shall see...**

**Ajunebuga: I know, right? She should really do something about that.**

**Snickers275: and I adore your username! Haha, long story, but thank you!**

**MyOTPsForever: oh don't worry about it, though I am glad that you did:) And I completely understand, I always say there's nothing that can make me so happy and sad at the same time like a completed fanfic. And thank you so much! You are so nice!**

**cflat: haha, me too. To be honest, I doubt it. I'm not really sure of the extent of her use of French so I'm probably not going to use it any more than I have to.**

**Guest 1: thank you! And I try to pride myself in being a good quote-maker:)**

**Guest 2: thanks, and I hope she's not **_**too **_**OOC, I try to make the characters as themselves as possible.**

**vonny25: thanks!**

**stagemanagertargaryen: thank you, that means a lot.**

**Peacockgirl: wait like one more chapter and hopefully it will be more obvious!**

** : thanks, and uh, does this answer your question?**

**Gypsyfat1999: no, it wasn't the tungsten hydrogen aluminum electron. It was , duh. ;P**

**Phoenix Crest: I'm so glad you're enjoying it!**

**OnFireGeek: well, we haven't gotten to that point yet luckily!**

**elise: well...**

**Guest 3: wow, you are so kind! Thank you so much, I really enjoyed reading your review. I'm so glad that it's coming off realistic but still good because seriously, that is all I strive for. Well, so other people will like it too, but same difference, right?**

**Thank you all so much for reviewing! And the follows are crazy! If you would like or have time, I'd love it if you became a reviewer, I enjoy hearing feedback and everything, it makes my day, trust me. Even if I haven't updated in a while, like this time, it is a 99.99% guarantee that I'll receive and read your review, so... Catch you next week!**


	5. Chapter Three

**So sorry for not updating, and I know, terrible to skip so much time when the plot's still just starting to roll and barely. I promise, it really picks up this chapter so give it a chance? No? Coming after me with pitchforks? Alright, I suppose I deserve it...**

**Okay, so, quite a few people asked whether Kit will get another POV. He will, he does, but it's a bit fewer because he's not the central character. Most chapters will be by Ella in third person and whenever I need him he will come back. One thing that you can count on is that I'm not switching the type of person and I'm not going to change POVs in the middle of a chapter. Maybe you're into that kind of thing, I don't know. You just won't find it here, sorry. Oh, another thing is why I refer to her as Cinderella. Yes, her name is still Ella, but this is from her POV (in third person) and she thinks of herself as Cinderella. In the end of the movie, she was proud of it but right now it's a horrid nickname that she is not above (in her mind, people!). Sorry, it's late so I'll edit it later, just dismiss any typos. Alright, next chapter, what will happen? We shall find out… I'll just shut up now.**

* * *

**Chapter Three:**

**Cinderella**

* * *

There was nothing like a nice, warm, and dirty awakening by the dead fireplace to remind Cinderella just how much of a ruin she was in. Without glancing at a looking glass she knew that her face was smeared with ash and cinders, and she sighed. She wanted to despise the coals for gracing her with her lovely epithet but, alas, it was not their fault that her step family was cruel at heart. Besides, it kept her warm throughout the winter nights- and any night, really, which was more than she could say for anything else. Often times she would envy her animal friends with their families to curl up with, like the mice, or their warm feathers to ruffle up in a nest, such as Mr. Goose, or a warm, natural winter coat to fight away the penetrating cold, akin to Galahad.

She had to admit, the nice and, not to mention, rare sunshine that peaked through the windows was a beautiful sight, the sun had been absent from their lives for a long while. Cinderella quickly stood with means to fetch breakfast for the girls. With what they had, most of their morning meals consisted of a cold lump of bread and a bit of strawberry preserves from the stock that had existed for as long as she could remember, but with Cinderella working at the palace, they assumed that she would bring enough income to pay for their more luxurious meals. In all actuality, thus was not the case and she had attempted to explain this to them but she would not be heard. With the case such as this, Cinderella was forced to work more hours to compensate for the extra payments.

Once the table was all set, Cinderella nodded to herself in contempt and went to feed the animals. Most of the time, the mice were hibernating, but her little friends could occasionally be found around the house, stirring up trouble with Lady Tremaine's cat, which she was still partially loathe to. Not that the cat wasn't a cute little thing but he was always hunting the mice and she did not appreciate the endangerment of her friends. A bit of scattering of feed to the remaining chickens and that silly old goose to peck at, a small flake of hay and a bite of grain for her stallion, and then she was off the the castle. Galahad must have sensed her excitement, for he was especially chipper. His stride was quick and his past was fast, to say the least. The gallant horse chewed at the bit and Cinderella had no reason to hold him back. The market visit was today, she had been looking forward to it since Elizabeth had told her of it yesterday morning.

Though the sun was out, it was still a nipping cold and Galahad came trotting into the town with a light sheen of perspiration and a labored breath. Cinderella easily slid from his back in the usual pasture, gently removing his bridle so he could graze. With one final pat goodbye, she was off to meet Elizabeth at the palace.

It wasn't too early in the morning, so there was a bit of activity as she stepped into the courtyards. The front steps were littered with guards on horseback. She immediately picked out the man who had served her yesterday, and her breath caught when she realized that, not only had he been a high ranked guard, he was the _captain _of the Guard. Oh, gods help her, of course she was to embarrass herself in front of the captain of the guard. Why couldn't it have been someone of less title? Someone less likely to look down on her even further for it? He had seemed kind, she was sure he wouldn't actually look down on her, after all, it was his horse who had nearly run her over, but she was entitled to fret over such issues as these and fret she would. Of course it was the _captain of the Royal Guard. _She breathed a sigh and quickly moved on, fearing he might catch sight of her and she would be shamed by herself even further.

Of course, Cinderella seemed to have a habit of running into people of high ranking, but she had yet to know of it.

The time of wait wasn't long before Elizabeth came scurrying into the back entrance, a scroll clutched neatly in her hand. "Good morning, miss Ella," she was greeted brightly. "Isn't the sun just marvelous today?"

"Indeed," Cinderella replied, smiling. "Perhaps the weather is finally coming to our side. And what luck we have, for it to be on the very same day we are to spend outside."

The woman nodded her response, stating that they should be off as soon as they could so that the market wouldn't be too crowded. The two gathered a large hand basket, one each, and briskly strolled out through the back side of the palace. Cinderella believed the guards were still out on the steps of the palace but she couldn't be sure, and besides, she'd rather be safe than sorry. There was no need to mortify herself further.

Just as her eyes turned to the ground, she noticed something a tad bit off to her. See, they say that when one of the five senses are disabled, the others are enhanced to a point that makes up for it. Cinderella certainly wasn't blind or deaf, but, in a way, she had no voice. She had always considered herself observatory but with no one to listen to her vocal thoughts and opinions, the space those normally allotted were replaced by the things her eyes would catch instead. In that moment, she caught the dancing of hooves in the rows and rows of guards, one horse in about the third row from the captain.

This, Cinderella found strange. The Guards' horses were generally trained to perfect attention, never a hoof out of line, never a glimmer of hesitation in performing the orders their masters gave them. The one restless creature suggested that he- for the Guard only made use of stallions- was not familiar with being surrounded by such close proximity of others in such a confined space. Maybe he was still learning but she knew better than to believe the Guard would ever send out a novice horse on professional duty.

From her distance, it was hard to pick out the exact details of the beast's rider. The Guards merged together with their pristine uniforms and it was difficult to spot specifics. The horse was dark, though, it's coat a rich, ebony black untouched by the nonexistent winter sun. His impossibly thick neck arched in noble perfection, his long mane tumbling down its right flank. This horse, though similar to the captain's, had an air of certain regal-ness that the others failed to achieve. If anything, he seemed disgusted that he was to stay behind in line as opposed to being up front and leading the herd. Cinderella wondered if perhaps he was the captain's horse, himself.

But it was not her business, and after a moment or so, she turned her attention away from the beautiful stallion and back to the task at hand; she was, after all, a mere servant girl.

She shouldn't worry about things that weren't her problem, so she quickly dismissed the curiosity in her mind. Curiosity wasn't exactly the best thing for her, either. Anything other than being the quiet mouse in the corner- never seen and never heard- was frowned upon for her, often with consequences that hurt in the morning. She didn't like it any more than the next person, but this was her life and she was a prisoner in it- and prisoners don't escape.

Of course, some do, but Cinderella wasn't lucky like that because she was a different kind of prisoner. She was bound by no more than the chains of family bonds and self duty, and those chains could never be broken. In other words, she had no chance of true escape. Working at the palace was like a dream, but that's all it would ever be. To Elizabeth, she was still happy in her home. Sure, mourning her father's death, but still well enough. She had no idea the torture she went through just by existing in that household, and she honestly couldn't fathom why she stayed.

That was a lie, though. She knew why. She resented and welcomed that reason every day of her life because it was the only thing she had left to hold onto.

"Miss Ella, are you faring well?" Elizabeth stopped them a few minutes in at the first produce shop. "You appear absentminded."

"I do?" Cinderella quickly responded. "I apologize, I'm just the slightest bit distracted, that's all. Daydreaming, I suppose." In truth, she was rather distracted… with that green palace guard horse. She really shouldn't linger on it, why wouldn't her mind let it go? She wouldn't fancy believing that it was something silly as fate or life that was intervening and telling that it was important, she was much too old to buy that. She was just being delusional, no more, no less.

"Well, we've still quite a bit to our list, why don't you take this bit and I'll take this? At noon we can meet right at the gates," the other woman suggested and Cinderella agreed. It would be a wonderful opportunity to explore the market a bit and take some time for herself, a rare feat in and of itself.

Soon enough, she was alone in the market filled with people, which was rather strange, if you asked her, seeing as most were so poor they were forced to beg on the streets. How did the kingdom manage to spit out this many people to form a crowd being able to afford the fresh goods at a time such as hers? She was almost spiteful of them, but it wasn't her fault her family was knee deep in poverty. There was no one to blame but themselves. Well, Cinderella could blame her stepmother for wasting it away all she wanted, but it wouldn't get her anywhere nor do her any good, now, would it? The way she saw it; you do the best with what you have.

The market was a lively place, indeed. It was foreign to her to be in such a bustling community and she felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb. Her eyes would wander endlessly and she often tripped over other people's shoes, calling out 'Sorry!' nearly every five seconds. It was times like those that Cinderella desired a bit more courage to be able to walk through without having to stare at her feet to watch where she placed them. In all, she was graced with well-balanced coordination, so she couldn't blame her inaccuracy in that department.

Of course, maybe it was a good thing she was having to look down. If she had been watching the path in front of her, she might never have run into- and quite literally _run into_\- the royal Guard.

"Excuse me, I am sorry," a vaguely familiar voice spoke out, the person's hand darting out to Cinderella's forearm to steady her. "Are you alright, miss?"

"I'm fine, and please, it's all my…" Cinderella faded off, glancing deeply at the stranger, who, now that she thought about it, didn't look all that much like a stranger at all. The only thing was, she couldn't quite place his appearance with a time and place. "Do I know you?" she questioned, politely of course, but still.

The Guard suddenly grew alarmed and grasped her arm, causing her to yelp in surprise as he dragged her off to the nearest alleyway. Oh goodness, was he going to kill her now? She had heard about these kinds of things, and she was so easily breakable, it wouldn't take much or long for someone like him to harm someone like her…

"Please don't say anything," he pleaded harshly, his ungloved hand still clasped firmly around her arm. She could feel his fingers pressing into a week-old bruise and she wanted to cry out but he had asked her to be quiet and had come as far as to pull her off somewhere, he must be serious and Cinderella didn't want anymore trouble than she absolutely needed. Which was none, by the way, but she didn't exactly get a choice in the matter. He did have rather nice teeth, she noted, but then immediately felt like slapping herself back to reality because how much more of an imbecilic thought could she produce?

Of course his voice and appearance seemed familiar, but Cinderella hadn't really gotten a good _look _at him until this moment, and even then, it was still kind of dark in the alley so it wasn't like it was a really good look. She didn't interact with the opposite gender too often (try never), but this man was undeniably handsome. Of course, he had a strong and muscular build, he wasn't a Guard for nothing. His dark hair was covered by the tall helmet, his face a pale color with lines around his eyes. He must smile a lot, she thought. But there were also darker circles beneath his eyes (which were very, very bright, how had they not been among the first things she noticed?) that she just happened to see and not because his face was mere inches away. The close proximity seemed like it should be uncomfortable or embarrassing but she was too shocked to really put much thought into her initial reaction. So he smiled a lot but he was stressed and tired enough to earn faint but definitely apparent bags? Interesting, very interesting.

"I-I promise," she stammered, her shoulders hunched up in a defensive yet cornered stance.

"Good. They'd have my hide if they knew I was out here," he muttered, relaxing his grip giving her relief. It was really more to himself than to Cinderella, but she couldn't help but wonder. After all, he was the one who swept her out of the market, she had a right to ask questions, right?

"Forgive me for asking, but aren't the Guards supposed to be patrolling at this time?"

"Yes, they are," he responded, doing nothing to quell her curiosity. She felt like groaning in displeasure, but she wouldn't actually dare. This was still an authoritative figure and she would never imagine an act such as defiant as that.

She hated to sound so verbally illiterate, and she despised being so in the first place as her father had taught her much better, but it was times like these where her education failed her in her time of need and she was left a blubbering mess. It wasn't really her fault, though, now, was it? After all, here she was with a stranger- albeit, a rather _handsome _stranger, but a stranger all the same- and she couldn't exactly summon the courage to speak properly, let alone her mind. "I mean, sir, um, well, I'm just wondering as to why- er, why you're, um, _upset,_" she winced as the word came tumbling out of her mouth at a far greater volume than she meant, "that you are out here when you technically should be, anyway."

"Pardon?" the man nearly cocked his head at her in confusion and Cinderella couldn't say she blamed him.

"Argh," she sighed beneath her breath. Then, addressing the Guard once more, "Sorry, that didn't make any sense. What I meant was; if you're supposed to be out here, why are you so worried about someone recognizing you?"

"You don't know who I am?" he exclaimed, nearly astonished. Cinderella was about to reply with a snarky, 'Aren't you a palace Guard?' but she was suddenly overwhelmed with a wave of deja vu, but where from…? Before she could place her thumb on it, the stranger- who really was seeming less and less like a stranger by the moment- quickly cleared his throat and said, "I mean, yes, I suppose that really is a strange predicament. I'm sorry for prolonging your activities in such a brutal manner."

And she really would have replied, but she got the sense that he was unanticipatedly holding his breath, just staring at her. She felt like it would be inappropriate for her to speak, so she simply didn't. Sure enough, the Guard slowly muttered, "You… seem incredibly familiar."

So it wasn't just her. But, then again, where in the world would she have met a Guard? This was beginning to get the slightest bit banausic, why couldn't she just figure it out already? She was a smart girl, or, at least, she liked to think herself reasonably intelligent, so she should be able to recall up a time when she could have met a man like this before? When she would have met a man in the first place?

Wait...

Cinderella's eyes enlarged to the size of her mother's old china dishes practically instantaneously. Of course, that wouldn't have given her up in the dark, but the little gasp emitting after it surely did. Not _him. _Not that there was anything wrong with it being him, just, imagine the odds stacked against her that she should ever meet him again let alone bump into him on the streets, but… he was a _Guard_? Why was she even surprised? She just loved to embarrass herself in front of persons she yielded to in place.

"I believe I do know who you are," she said slowly, still struggling to come to terms with it herself. How was this possible? Okay, so there was just this slightest discomfort in her stomach that made her feel ill and yet inexplicably like she was soaring at the same time, which was the most peculiar thing ever, but she disregarded it. What were the chances of something like this happening? Did she dare hope that her life still had a little something left for her in store? No, she couldn't think like that, she couldn't afford to. But… what if this was no accident? Did she even have the hope left to dream about it?

He sighed. "I might as well get it done now. They'll be going off their rockers sure enough by now. Go on, say it," he almost seemed to cringe, and Cinderella felt terribly confused.

No, she was being much too blindly optimistic. There was no way that there was anything left for her. She had already had her great moments, and they were gone. Short but sweet, and that's all she had to hold onto. That's all she had to remember _them _by, she couldn't get her hopes up. She was just being ridiculous, a giddy, daydreaming little girl and Cinderella was a _woman _now, she was no longer a little girl. She didn't take orders from anyone. Except from the palace, of course. And her stepmother, and step sisters, a random stranger who, turns out, wasn't actually a stranger at all (except for that he really actually was), any common passerby, okay, so that's a little besides the point. Nonetheless, she was not one to disobey direct orders, so she tread carefully as she spoke her next words.

Taking in a deep breath just to summon the courage to say the words was a lot harder than she imagined. And there was this awful and tempting voice in her head telling her that she should flee right then and there, but this was still a pretty coincidental coincidence, if she did say so herself, she might as well give some effort. She wouldn't let her spirits soar too high, though. Even a fall as brief as that one could break her as she was so easily breakable. The likes of a royal Guard had neither the business nor the dignity to be associated with someone like her, and she would do well to remember that. Still…

_Here goes nothing, _she thought as she gulped one last time, swallowing the instinct of flight coursing through every bone in her body as she sputtered: "Y-you're Mr. Kit."

And the way his eyes widened only confirmed every suspicion and certainty she had about her inference, though the man- Mr. Kit- seemed mightily surprised to hear the name from her lips. All the same, it was familiarity. And she could swear that she saw a bit of some aberrant emotion flicker through his eyes as he gaped at her. Amazement, sure, but maybe even, dare she say it, _joy. _But that was preposterous, she needed to get rid of that immediately. Perhaps some things are not meant to be apprehended too closely and she shouldn't over think an accidental encounter such as this, even if it was for the second time. Then again, Cinderella wasn't all too familiar with the phrase, '_there are no accidents_'.

But, being in her current situation, it's more likely than not that even if she had been familiar with it, she would have just brushed it off as a lie the fool convinces himself to believe in fate.

* * *

** : I am absolute touched by your review, but I feel really bad cause my chapter is only just now up… If it helps I'm really sorry!**

**IronJedi: again, sorry it's so late…**

**stagemanagertargaryen: thanks!**

**IchabobCraneBurton: I'm sorry for that, but that's awesome that you're liking my story! I hope you continue to like it and yes, we will. Probably next chapter, just a heads up.**

**vonny25: thank you!**

**OnFireGeek: I know, it's really depressing writing her character. And yeah, I wish they had at least a bit more of interaction as well.**

**Anonymous-xox: thanks and me too!**

**MyOTPsForever: I'm sorry about keeping you all so long, and the action is actually kind of moved on the the next chapter, but I swear it will be up next week!**

**Gothamazon: your reviews have absolutely made me smile every single time I read them and thank you so much! And I suppose we'll have to see for the enough is enough, I love Galahad, he's so gorgeous, and I'm sorry for the long wait!**

**Rose: I'm sorry for keeping you waiting for so long but thanks a ton!**

**K: I know it's a million years late but here you go and thank you for the compliments!**

**AnimeWhoLocksDiaries: well, I kinda failed your request but I tried, I really did, I swear!**

* * *

**I know this is totally unfair of me but to anyone who gets this far could you please do me a **_**tremendous**_ **confidence-booster favor and leave a review? It doesn't have to be long and I promise I will read it and respond next chapter, please? I won't update based on reviews and I cross my heart that the next chapter will be out next week, but reviews would help, so, think about it? You all are awesome, completely and 100% honest.**


	6. Chapter Four

**Guess who broke, shattered, stomped on and buried, brought back to life, and repeatedly stabbed just to once again murder their promise? That's right- it's me. I'm sorry! *wails* I swore that I would get it up the following week and it's been over I-don't-even-know-anymore months. Mostly, I just got this major writer's block and didn't feel like writing though I still feel terrible. I'm also trying to repel another story idea until I finish this one so wish me luck on that. Alright, thanks for sticking with me (sort of- I don't blame you if you've abandoned this story altogether, so, no hard feelings) and review replies at the bottom (which, by the way, looking at this, do I really have 32 reviews for one chapter?! HOLY CARP YOU GUYS ARE THE **_**BEST**_**!).**

* * *

There was only one person in the world whom had only known the Prince as Mr. Kit, but of course, he had never expected to see her again. Dumbfounded as he was, he was merely capable of staring at the girl- no, woman now, he supposed- and marvel in the fact that he had not recognized her before. She was still very beautiful, that much had not changed, but her thin and elegant frame appeared more sickly and that of one who lived a hard life as opposed to one of tough labor. Her sparkling blue eyes had seemingly lost their liveliness, the undimmed spark that had intrigued him and haunted his dreams to no end was no longer present. The smile that he remembered gracing her lips even when she was dressed with a serious expression no longer existed, replaced by a hard, thin line of her mouth. Her lower lip was slightly swollen, most likely from biting it in concentration- or pain, but he'd prefer to think the former- not that he was staring at her lips, or anything. No, time certainly had not fared her well, but all the same, he still thought her a very, very beautiful creature, indeed.

"I-it's you," was the first meager and vaguely coherent sounding sentence he could scramble to produce. The maiden looked dumbfounded, at the very least, perhaps just as much as he, himself did, before he realized that princes do not look dumbfounded and rearranged his expression into something a bit more accomadable. "Um… You're- I mean… hi."

So princes don't _look _dumbfounded, but he supposed he never heard his father telling him that they couldn't _sound _it.

Her lips drew back in a sort of smile, a kind that reflected a certain look in her eyes that the Prince could not name. It was recognizable, but all the same foreign. "So, you're a Guard?" she asked politely, rubbing her hands together nervously as she held the basket.

"Yes," he responded, maybe a bit too quickly. "I am. And- and how are you and your family faring in this time?"

The girl's mouth twisted into another kind of smile, more of a polite one with tones of uncertainty and hidden guilt. "Better than I should hope so, I presume. We have enough to support ourselves through the cold. Actually, I've taken up work now."

For a moment, he was confused. Didn't she already work for a family? The Prince asked her so himself, and the girl looked so terribly frightened that he thought he had done or said something wrong.

"Oh, no, I mean, _other _work, as well, of course," she stammered through wide eyes, but she had a voice packed with forced sanguine disposition. She took a few steps back but nearly stumbled. He instinctively reached out to steady her and she regained her balance and composure before looking back up to meet his eyes. "Thank… you," her voice faded off a bit and the strained lighthearted mood slipped away. The girl's eyes were weary and old looking, much older than when they had last met. The brown color no longer appeared innocent and wide-eyed, perhaps a bit more like _glass_, either way, they had become something else entirely. Equally as beautiful and captivating but more in an intriguing way. There were dark circles under her eyes and he swore he could see a fading purple coloration on the edge of her right cheek. Practically in his subconscious, he reached out to cradle her face (while his other hand was still resting on her forearm, mind you), as tender as possible. She froze in shock, unsure of what to do. With that, he realized he was being foolish and worried for someone who was not his responsibility to worry for. She could take care of herself. And yet…

His hand quickly retracted to his side and he glanced back up at her. She was lightly chewing on her bottom lip and appeared troubled. The Prince couldn't help but fret for her. She just seemed so _innocent _and- and… and she was no more. With an inward start, the Prince realized that this was not the maiden he had met in the woods. The maiden whom he had met in the preceding years was young, good, untouched by the cruel realities of the world, and this was a woman who knew all too well how everything worked out in the end. He was shielded from everything that went on; he had it easy. But this girl did not, that much was clear, and he felt an overwhelming compulsion to protect her, no matter the cost to himself.

But, then again, he was to be the future King, and all his people were subjects under his care. And he wanted to care- about her especially. Why, well, the Prince wasn't entirely sure, but he felt a strong urge to wrap his arms around this frail girl and shelter her from all the terrible and menacing things the world could offer (metaphorically, of course, though not that he'd be objecting to literally). She just seemed so worn down, like her spirit had been dimmed to almost extinction and there was nothing left for her but to remain and wither away to nothing. In the eyes of the world, she was nobody, she was nothing, and he was- well, he was royalty. She had probably suffered far worse than he ever would in his lifetime, but her worth was so insignificant in comparison everyone else's. He barely knew her, but he didn't like the way that settled with him. He didn't like that he was supposed to just accept that, maybe offer a few kind words, and smile a charming set of perfectly set pearls, nothing more, nothing less.

Well, here's what he had to say about that- she wasn't nobody. To some people out there, she was someone. She belonged to a family who loved her and maybe work was hard in how she was treated but she had someone who loved her for who she was and would accept her no matter what decisions she made. And the Prince wanted that. In fact, he, a prince in line for his own kingdom, was envious of a poor country girl dressed in rags. (Of course, he didn't know that Cinderella hadn't known acceptance in a very long time, but how was he to know that?)

So, the Prince spoke up. "Is your cheek alright?"

The girl was startled at his question. "I beg your pardon?"

"You have the makings of a slowly healing bruise on your face. Are you alright?" he asked once more, genuinely concerned. The girl furrowed her eyebrows in something the Prince labeled as uneasiness.

"Oh, that, I-I tripped. Just the other day, actually. It's why I'm wearing this new dress, someone was kind enough to lend it to me, and you see, I'm just terribly uncoordinated so I hit my cheek against the corner of a table. It happens quite frequently, actually, so it's nothing to fret over," she finished with a convincing smile, pulling her lips back in a tight stretch. Her face was now molded into a permanent frown, no longer accustomed to the bright grins and crinkled eyes filled with hope.

"I see. And what brings you to the market today?" he asked, stepping aside and gesturing to the bustling area around them. She nodded her thanks as she ducked past him back into the streets, the both of them meandering through the stands side by side.

"Shopping for the castle. It's nice to be outside," she replied gently.

"I completely agree. With the weather we've been having, it's been difficult to get anything done," he said politely. He was sure that the girl must be wondering what a Prince- er, Guard, he meant Guard- like him was doing escorting a girl like her throughout the streets as she kept giving him funny glances every now and then, but he couldn't help it. So what if he was stalling in just the slightest bit? She was charming and he was still just a man.

"I'm glad," she smiled at him and though it wasn't the smile he remembered, the Prince found himself just as captivated by it.

"So, you've found work at the palace?" he brought up the reason she had said she was in the market, and decided to question her on that topic. It was rather delightful, there was a possibility that he could even _see _her at the palace! And then that delight faded away as quickly as it had aroused. He was the crowned Prince, and the maiden thought him to be a simple and newly named Guard. Perhaps this wasn't so terrific after all…

"Yes, it's been a couple days now, I really enjoy it. It's a lovely experience and the castle is such a nice place. I'm sure you must be used to it, of course," she replied modestly, seeming a bit embarrassed about her little glimmer of excitement. The Prince wasn't sorry; for a moment, her eyes had lit up and it had been the brightest thing he had ever seen. Be that as it may be, it might be a good thing the light only lasted for a moment or two, for if it had been there from the start it might have blinded the poor Prince.

"Of course," he repeated, noting that his voice sounded strained and distant yet doing nothing to correct himself. Yes, he was well acquainted with the palace, but for reasons unbeknownst to her. The girl continued to shuffle through the crowds alongside him. People of the market tended to avert their paths and attention respectively around the two, unsurprising since he was Guard. Or, at least, dressed like one. He'd despise to so much as imagine what would become of the two of them had he wandered here in his casual attire.

The Prince suddenly realized that there had been a prolonged silence between the two of them and he cleared his throat rather awkwardly, scrambling for something else to say. "If you don't mind me asking, that is, what is it that you perform in at the castle?"

"Simple things, really," she responded, "I'm more of a kitchen maid as of right now; I'm used to handling myself in those surroundings. And what of you? Do you enjoy being a Guard?"

"Very much so. I find it quite to my liking and I am pleased to be serving the royal family." To his credit, one of the two was not lie…

"Do you see much of them?" she inquired, turning her head to look at him as she halted by a stand filled with an abundance of fresh produce, reaching out and seizing a collection of carrots.

"A bit," he answered modestly as she slipped a pair of bright copper coins from a pouch in her basket to the stand's owner and nodded her thanks. The seller kindly ignored the pair's conversation, pocketing the change as the two walked off again. "The King can be a tad bit overbearing at times, but I certainly have hope that the Prince will continue his rule with an equal and just hand. I suppose you have not seen much of him around the kitchens."

"No, it would be awfully inappropriate for the crowned Prince to occupy the palace kitchens," she agreed. He twisted his mouth in speculation. He desired to perceive a peasant's opinion on himself and his image, however, the girl's reaction had not been much to go on.

"Do you ever wish to meet the Prince?" he questioned, hoping he would not appear too apprehensive from her stance.

"He has his place on the throne," she answered thoughtfully, "and I suppose I have mine. It would be a great honor to speak with his Highness, yet someone of my status is ignoble in comparison. Furthermore, I cease to have reason to meet with him. I have friends, of a sort, at the palace, and I am content with my lifestyle. I am not in a state to desire more."

"And what of the way the kingdom is now? Do you hold ill regards towards the King and Prince for allowing this to happen?" The Prince had always fretted over this concept- that his subjects might acquire a hatred for him for allowing this poverty to occur, thinking that perhaps he was not doing all that he could, but, along with his father, he really was and it was assuredly frustrating on his behalf.

She nodded in concurrence, pausing to add to her basket several packs of salt. "Our kingdom has indeed fallen into a rather desolate winter, but our monarchs are performing their best to pull us out. I expect it cannot be untroublesome to manage this, but I am confident they will succeed. After all, we've fared well enough for the previous centuries, have we not?"

The Prince curved the corners of his mouth skyward in repercussion to her substantial surety concerning the royal family- concerning him. It was a delightful innervation to know that though he still carried a heavy and burdensome weight atop his shoulders, at least his people still believed in him. At least one, that is. "Yes, I suppose we have. You're very wise, I thank you for your incite."

"Oh, I didn't mean to assert myself in dogmatism, I merely-"

The Prince held up his hand, effectively cutting her off. He sent her a modest, apologetic smile. "I beg your pardon, I did not intend to convey my contemplations in that manner. What I meant to say was that your certainty in me-" he coughed, "the King and Prince is greatly inspiring and I am gratified for hearing those words from you. They are often concerned about the welfare and opinions of the people so it is exceptionally nice to know that you think them capable of bringing the kingdom back into prosperity."

The girl blinked, seemingly taken back by hearing such words coming from one so superior to her. In actuality, the Prince did not think himself so highly in correlation to her; he believed her to be many times greater a person than he could ever achieve. She was still so good, and even though she appeared broken down in the shattered remains of the glory she once held, she was still so magnificently remarkable because, here she was, enduring all the hardships the universe could bombard her with, reappearing not unscathed, but still going. She no longer held her head up high, but she still held her head up, and that alone was worth all the respect in the world.

"T-thank you, Mr. Kit," she held his stare for a moment before dipping her head and curtseying politely. He frowned. The formality of it all didn't appeal to him the way it should have.

"You're welcome," he replied sincerely.

She then inhaled dramatically and quickly probed through the items in her basket. "This- this is everything," she announced in an almost regretful tone.

"Oh." His response was reciprocal in its intonations.

"Thank you for accompanying me," she smiled tersely. The Prince was struck with a feeling of gratitude for having witnessed what insinuated to be a rare smile so many instances in one day. How was it that one person could have such an effect over a man trained to discipline his emotions? It wasn't fair. She must be some sort of enchantress, he concluded. And his mental claims of sorcery weren't entirely off, for she certainly was enchant_ing._

"And might I learn of your name, this time?" he chuckled.

"I suppose," her expression turned into one of amusement, "that would not be of too much trouble to ask. My name is-"

"Ella!"

A high-pitched voice cut through the population within the market, and the Prince's company whipped her head around to scan the crowd for the speaker. From the midst of people, a woman with an identical basket to the one the girl carried came scurrying towards the two. She was older than them, also looking a bit worse for wear, but she had a kind face concealed beneath layers of dust and rags.

"Hello Elizabeth, I've just finished," she hastily greeted as the woman approached.

"Perfect," Elizabeth smiled, ignorant to the Prince's presence among them. "Best we'd be off, then. They'll be waiting for us back at the palace and it's better to be swift than delayed."

She was then grabbed at the elbow by her companion, and though not in an aggressive or insensitive demeanor, her body still gave a miniscule flinch, nearly undetectable, but the Prince had not been familiarized in combat his entire life for naught. The girl cast one last look at him as she shuffled through the horde. She creased her eyebrows, ostensibly contemplating something. Suddenly, she seemed to have made up her mind as she called out, "I wish to see you again, Mr. Kit!"

He very nearly laughed aloud, but he contained himself with a grin that stretched across his facial features and caused his cheeks to sting. For old time's sake, he supposed.

"And I, you, Miss Ella!"

Her smile was the last thing he could note before she disappeared, swallowed by so many others. Once again, he was grateful to have beared witness to the radiance of it, even if it was not quite as bright as it had formerly been. Perhaps, he wondered, that made it all the more memorable. It was an expression she did not wear continuously, and yet she had worn it because of him. In his account, it was enough to bring joy to anyone.

_Ella, _he spoke to his thoughts. What a pretty name. A pretty name for a pretty girl; he deemed it fitting. But all the beautiful things were of the most delicate nature, and though she was not one to strike him as delicate, she could still break. In fact, he feared she had already been broken. Once she had resided among the clouds and the stars, once her eyes had held a sparkle that gleamed a wondrous beacon of hope... once she had been a dreamer. The Prince knew better than anyone that all dreams must come to an end, and if one was capable of dreaming, then their reality was no better. When she closed her eyes, he wondered if she would find magic seen only with the soul, or if she would only see the posterior side of her eyelids. He genuinely cherished the lack of knowledge, for if Ella, the girl who inspired him to accomplish what should be done as opposed to what was, could no longer find happiness, even within the fantasy of her dreams, then what hope did the rest of the world dare to have?

* * *

**I know it's a little short but it's a start. I crossed my heart on a word I failed to keep, however, because I like to think that a lot of you would enjoy me continuing the story, I'm not allowing myself to die just yet. Sorry to all those who my demise would bring great appeasement to their anger.**

**I don't want to fool anyone with the word length so I am PMing review responses and answering guests here because you all deserve a reply for me having been gone for so long. If you haven't gotten a response then you should be getting one sometime soon.**

**Guest (May 29(wow has it really been that long…?), 1): Yeah, there were several ways that would have been fun to toy with including a scenario involving Galahad but I felt like this one was the best option for the plot. Um… Sort of… And thank you for that, that's really nice but I definitely don't deserve it!**

**2LaZ2SignIn: Thanks and I will try!**

**Guest (May 29, 2): Thank you!**

**Guest (May 29, 3): I'm sorry! But thank you!**

**Guest (May 30): May I say you have amazing waiting skills… And yeah, obviously, that didn't happen and I really am sorry.**

**K: Thank you, and I know, I absolutely adore that scene. That is probably among the best compliments I can ever receive because, if you see my profile, I don't really favorite stories either and I have read quite a number of really good ones, so I know what you mean by that. I'm really sorry that you waited an eternity but all of your reviews actually did motivate me to suck it up and write once again so it did help in some ways.**

**Gothamazon: Thanks, I loved your review! I'm glad you like(d) this story so much!**

**Guest (June 7): thanks and, uh… *awkwardly averts gaze***

**Guest (June 30): I know, and I'm so angry at myself for not doing so! But here I am so, yay…?**

**Alex: how's this for not rushing a story? Haha, thanks a million and sorry for **_**this**_ **long of a wait.**

**mecaka: Thank you, and I completely agree with you, however, I have a tendency to do those kinds of things in my writing and I'm trying to make them make more sense, but it's just something I do with this story so I'm sorry if it's confusing, I'm working on understanding the definitions a bit more before using them. And no, I love this story and will never abandon it, however, life + writer's block = no update…**

**Guest (August 11): Thank you and I will try!**

**Guest (August 13): I'm sooooo sorry and no, that is merely a really nice compliment, I'm so glad you enjoy(ed) this!**

**As you can probably tell, there is no guarantee another update will come anytime soon. I'm in 10th grade now and I have a lot of homework and I still have some writer's block, nonetheless, rest assured that this story **_**will **_**continue, it just might not be as soon as any of us would like, including myself. Until next time, thanks again for everything, guys.**

**~Pearlness4700**


End file.
